A Different Kind of Night
by GameWritingUnleashed
Summary: Mike Schmidt has a different kind of night...but will he run like the others or make new friends?
1. Chapter 1

Mike Schmidt's life was about what you would expect from a high school dropout with no money, no work, and parents that hated him. The month was halfway through and if he couldn't come up with 120 dollars at the end of it, he would be on the streets. He was about to give up his nightly job hunting, when by pure chance, he came across an ad that read "NIGHT GUARD WANTED FOR FREDDY FAZBEAR'S FAMILY PIZZERIA! 4 DOLLARS AN HOUR THE FIRST WEEK, 10 DOLLARS AFTER! CALL 803-341-FAZBEAR! APPLY NOW!"

Mike's heart nearly jumped for joy after he read the words from the paper. Sure, the pay was right at minimum wage, but he would be able to pay off his rent. That alone made him run home and call the number now etched in his mind.

The second he raced into his apartment, Mike locked the door and grabbed his phone off the charger. He punched the numbers into the keypad and listened to the monotone ringing.

After what felt like an eternity, a deep, southern accent picked up on the other end. "Hello, you've reached Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, a place where fantasy and fun come to life. How can I help you?" The voice was worn, as if he was just tired of answering the phone and saying that line.

"Hello!" Mike answered with enthusiasm. "I'm calling for the night guard position?" The man immediately perked up. Oh! Ok, awesome! Just come tomorrow morning, say, eleven? Mike's jaw could've dropped down to the cheap tile floor if that was humanly possible. "Yes, yes! I'll be there eleven o' clock sharp, tomorrow morning!

"Alright, see you then!" David Fasbar hung up from his office at Freddy's. He sighed with relief that he had filled the position before the next night. That last night guard had run out yet again. His brow furrowed from the thought of the other ones. How many had it been now? 30? 40, maybe? _Well, at least I'll have him for another night._

Mike set a timer on his phone for nine o' clock sharp, and set it down. He did not even think about putting it on the charging cord. On his face a wide smile was displayed for his unexplainable change in luck. He nearly skipped to bed, jumping under the covers of his mattress. It was only a mattress and a blanket, that's how poor he was at the moment. The smile remained on his face until he finally drifted of to sleep...

Mike jumped out of his mattress at the ring of his phone sitting mere feet away from his one bedroom apartment. He flew out of bed and into his closet, finding a collared shirt, his nicest one. Not like he could afford more than 6 or 7 shirts anyway. He immediately mentally facepalmed himself at his stupidity. _Shower before shirt, idiot! _Nothing would stop him from looking perfect on this day, the day of his first job interview in months. Around an hour and a half later, he slipped out the door and into his 1986 Ford truck, which took a minute to start and ran at a top speed of 53 mph. (Mike had tested it on the highway, until parts fell out of the bottom and he called a tow truck).

Mike rolled up to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, a moment he would soon look back on as an old man. He walked into the store, pushing the doors open with confidence. He strode up to the front desk, where a young woman was standing. She gave him a smile and said with pep, "Hello, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, Where fantasy and fun come to life, what can I do for you on this fine day?" Mike couldn't help but smile at the woman's attitude towards him, he hadn't had this feeling since he ordered Chinese and got a "Thanks for you business!" from the delivery boy. He replied, "I'm here for the night job position, I guess I'm supposed to see the manager?" The woman's smile got even bigger, which surprised Mike. _Why would a person working at this level care about the night guard position?_ Mike shook his skepticism off, and followed the girl back to the managers office.

He stepped into an office marked "Manager David Fasbar, 27 Years of Service." The office itself was quite large, with a mahogany desk taking up at least a quarter of the space. Comfy looking armchairs lined the walls and a large portrait of the animatronics themselves on the wall just above the door. Mike wondered why he would have something like that hanging there, but he brushed it off. "Hello, son! I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last night, could you tell me it now?" The man seemed nice, and Mike couldn't help but like his fatherly mentality. "It's Mike, Mike Schmidt, sir." Mr. Fasbar replied in his southern drawl, "Wonderful, I'm sure you'll fit right into the Fazbear family!" Mike's eyebrows rose to the top of his hairline. "Y-you mean I h-have the job?" Mike stuttered out after a few seconds. Mr. Fasbar chuckled and said, "Yes, you just have to sign here, initial here, sign here, and put your contact info here, then sigh this legal contract, and yes! You'll have the job!" Mike's hand flew over the papers as fast as he could, praying this wasn't a dream. Mr. Fasbar thanked the young man for his compliance (and thanked God in his head that he didn't read the legal form), then sent him on his way.

David breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair. He knew it would be short lived, but he felt a sense of accomplishment at his employment of Mr. Schmidt.

**AN: Hey everyone! First fanfic after so long thinking about it! I know this chapter seems kind of short, but I promise to make them longer. Probably going to make the next chapter right now because I'm so excited! This just seemed like a nice stopping point to at least get to the next chapter! ****Next time will be Mike's first night! ****See you in the next AN, GameWritingUnleashed signing out. **


	2. Chapter 2

Mike had decided to, once again, set his phone to go off on an alarm to get him to his shift. The buzzing drew him from his sleep at 11:20 to give him a bit of time to grab his security uniform and throw it on, scrambling to grab all of the pieces to it. Mike never thought a simple uniform would have so many compartments, pockets, and pieces. Soon, but not after a 20 minute struggle, Mike walked out the door to begin his very first shift at Freddy's.

Mike arrived in the cracked, worn down parking lot of the place at 11:55. He mentally prepped himself for what was his first sereious job since that whole soup kitchen fiasco...the thought still made him cringe with disgust. He wondered if people still thought about that, or if it had faded away yet. _That was 8 months ago, Mike. Stop living in the past and go watch a kid's restaurant!_ Mike stepped onto the pavement. He gulped, drenched his armpits in sweat, and walked in.

David was starting to get worried. Mike's shift would start in less than 10 minutes and he didn't see any car but his own in the cold, dismal parking lot. He scolded himself that there was nothing wrong with being on time, Mike was just getting all his sleep, that's it. Yeah, he just didn't want to be that early. David sure did hope, because if he didn't show up, he himself would need to take on the nightshift, a prospect about as appealing to him as another kid deciding to eat an entire Chica Special Jumbo Party Deluxe Megapizza, then barfing it all up in the East Hall. The poor janitor barely had enough cleaning solution to get it all! But then, at long last (or 20 minutes, whatever you call it) a pair of bright white lights pulled up into the parking lot, illuminating the lobby of the restaurant. David's features lit up with happiness, and the fact that he would sleep tonight.

"Mike! it's good to see you, lad!" David greeted Mike in that jovial voice of his.

"Oh, h-hello sir." Mike began to stutter out, clearly nervous about this moment.

"Alrighty, Mike. Here's your keys, taser, flashlight, the door button to close the blast doors, the light button to shine right outside your office, and of course, your fan!" David had started showing Mike his office located just right of the lobby. David pointed at the fan as if it was a prized piece of equipment, but it just seemed like an office fan to Mike.

"W-what's special about the fan s-sir?" Mike questioned, still nervous around David's open, welcoming personality.

"Well Mike, this fan is the only piece of equipment that has been here since the restaurant was founded in 1978, besides Freddy and the gang, of course. It has a lot of sentimental value, so don't break it!" David laughed his hearty laugh as if it was an absurd thought that it would break.

"Ha, ha, yeah, as I-if it would, heh..." Mike's thoughts again went back to the soup kitchen incident and he gulped for the second time that night. He had a tendency to break things, but it was just one thing. He had nothing to worry about.

David suddenly slapped Mike on the back heartily (and kind of forcefully, in Mike's defense) and made Mike throw a hand out to catch himself. The desk was the only thing in front of him, and it was a small desk. So with Mike's luck, his hand just managed to tip the base of the fan, enough to send it spinning like a record, inching closer and closer to the edge of the desk until...

_***CRASH***_

The fan came tumbling down to its untimely demise. It pulled the cord right out of the socket and bent the thin metal cage to the point where it was wedged into the fan blade.

David looked at the broken sentimental piece with a blank expression displayed on his face. "Ooh..." Mike screwed up. Yet again, only not as public as the last time.

"Well Mike... I guess I have to do this." David handed him the busted fan. "Well, just go out back to the storage shed on the LEFT. Only the LEFT one. Grab a fan and run back in, Ok, Mike?"

Mike's mouth and eyes went wide in shock. All he could do was get out a few choppy nods before running to the back of the restaurant.

20 minutes later, Mike had swapped his initial nervousness for this job for boredom. He'd neglected to realize this job was literally 6 hours of NOTHING. Just sitting in his chair, occasionally checking the cameras for something, anything. at the 4 hour mark, he had finally managed to fall into a light sleep in the uncomfortable office with his left leg propped up on the short desk, the right resting on the floor.

The cameras rolled on however, picking up thing you would call...out of place. 3 empty costumes sitting on the show stage, the endoskeletons nowhere to be found.

Mike was awoken by a loud metallic clanking echoing from the right hall. He mumbled a few unintelligible words before straightening himself in his chair. He allowed himself an 'ahhhhhh' of pleasure as he reached for his tablet. It opened to the show stage, where he found...3 empty mascot suits. He fell straight out of the chair, right onto his butt. Letting out a yelp of surprise, then pain. He rubbed his tailbone as he got back on his chair.

"What!? What the-" Mike went on a string of 'what the's' and 'how in the heck's' that lasted for about 15 minutes. I didn't feel the need to right every single one of them. That'd be boring.

After his little rant, Mike regained his composure and started assessing the situation.

"Okay, wait." He allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. "This is a prank! Yeah, ha! I'm probably on Punk'd or some other crap, right? Of course, that only makes sense!" He let out another, somewhat nervous, laugh. "Well hello America! Hoped you liked that little display there, because that's all you'll get outta me!"

He now had a cocky composure, and decided to go out and have a look at this 'prank'.

He walked down the hall to the party hall, and yelled out, "Reeeeeeal funny prank guys! Come on out, I know what's going on!" He expected a reality show host, or at least a little note that said "You've been Punk'd!" But nothing. Just the black, empty, unforgiving eyes of the empty costumes. The old Mike came back. The stuttering, nervous wreck of a man came into full effect. "G-g-guys? H-hello?" All he got was a slight, barely audible click, a whirring...and...

_***POUND***_

_***POUND***_

Cold metal hit the tiled floor, coming from the kitchen. A 7 foot tall figure, rivaling Shaq, emerged from the darkness. Mike drew the beam of his flashlight, shakily, to the dark rectangle of darkness. It illuminated a figure from the stuff of nightmares. Not just regular ones, but the ones that you remember until you're an elderly man, the ones that keep you up weeks later.

At the top, two triangles stood at the top, two unseeing metal orbs of eyes just below. a series of wires and rounded teeth made up the mouth and face, and a metal cage of steel supported it. the legs could only be described as bare, with to rods connected that bent at the knee. The figure made Mike's heart start running back to his office before his brain told his body to. And run he did. The Usain Bolt would be left in the dust by the speed of Mike.

At the office, Mike did what any rational human would; close the doors and hyperventilate.

The metal behemoth knew exactly where he was, though, and knocked with booms. At this point, Mike had already keeled to the floor and fainted dead away. The knocking stopped after around a minute, and was eventually opened by means of the control panel in David's study. Four certain other robots gathered in the tiny office after it was opened.

"Jeez, Chica. I never thought you would be one to kill!" a girl's voice broke the silence.

"Oh my God! He's not dead, is he, Freddy?" a much more milder sounding voice yelped out.

One of the figures, with a hat donned, knelt down beside him.

"No." He stated in an affirmative voice. "He's gone and fainted." Another more southern voice said.

"Will he be alright, matey?" The last voice called out.

"Yes, but let's fix him up with a coffee. I'll make some while you guys set him up in his chair."

"Alright, Fred." The other three chorused out.

Mike woke up sitting normally in his office chair.

"Oh, whew! All just a messed up dream." Mike's relieved voice relaxed.

He checked the time, which read 5:55. He smiled widely and checked the show stage.

"All in place." He cracked another grin, settling down and grabbing a coffee.

_Wait._ He thought._ When did I ever make any coffee?_

However, he dismissed the feeling and tucked into it with a clear mind.

Later, David found a mug of cold coffee sitting in the break room with a note.

_Plees get mowr cofe. Had 2 mak gard mowr beecuz wee maad him faant. Fred._

David knew he had a guard that would come back.

**AN: Hey! Made the next chapter! *wild cheers erupt* Yeah! Made it extra long, just like I said! Thanks to everyone who took time to read the crummy first chapter and a shout out to TrollingIsOver9000 and teeroy766 for following and CrimsonLaura for favoriting! Means a lot to me! See you in the next AN, GameWritingUnleashed Singing Out.**


	3. Chapter 3

Mike only possessed the energy to unlock the door to his apartment and flop to his bed, not taking off anything. His dreams drifted all over his brain, some about the soup incident. Most about the soup incident. A few had David firing him. But none were like the one that jolted him right out of his sleep.

He was back at the pizzeria, sitting in his office. Well, an office, anyways. It was much larger, with a desk twice as big as the one he worked at. He tried to move, but the dream kept his head straight. A sound emanated throughout the place, sending a shiver down Mike's spine. A disembodied voice spoke in Mike's ear, extremely creepily, "You can't..." A purple face shimmered into view in front of him and Mike shot up.

He was sweating and breathing hard, like he'd just run a marathon. He got up to wash his face off and grab some water.

The next day went by much like the last. Mike walked around town, wondering if his luck would hold and he'd find a day job to complement his night one.

However, his luck was gone. He walked around town, just so he was doing something. He knew he'd also have to get a new (used) pair of shoes.

Eventually, 11:30 came, and Mike hopped in his truck to earn some money. Once again he pulled into that dilapidated parking lot, headlights illuminating the restaurant once again. But this night would be...a different kind of night.

David greeted Mike in the parking lot, giving him the keys and bidding him a good night. Mike strutted into the place like he owned it, flopping into his chair and propping his feet between the fan and monitor and preparing for five and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep.

But only a couple hours in, a rythmic tapping aroused him. He opened his eyes blearily and mumbled,"Five more *yawn* minutes mom...".

A figure in front of him let out a small giggle, covering her mouth in a cute way. She proceeded to talk. "Mister security guard...wake up!" The words "security guard" pulled him from his stupor.

_Wait, I should be alone! OH MY GOD!_

Mike shot out of the chair, flopping out of the office into the East Hall, right on his butt. His hand shot down to his belt, fumbling around for the taser.

"S-stay b-back! I-I know how too u-use this thing!" He tried to sound brave, but his stuttering betrayed his true feelings. He started backpedaling towards the dining hall, where he hoped to find another means of defense.

What he found was not what he expected. Three more people (at least Mike originally thought they were humans then) Mike did a double take. The taser flew up to the ceiling when Mike jumped three feet straight up in the air, his hands flying to his face. A very high pitched scream escaped Mike's mouth as he ran for the bathrooms.

The only occupant of the girl's bathroom shuddered in the last stall as he tried to awaken himself from this nightmare. Footsteps echoed frrom the entrance of the bathroom, coming for Mike.

He saw two feet appear come to a rest at the stall door. "Mister security guard, please come out. We don't want to hurt you." A sweet voice beckoned.

"Yeah, right!" Mike cried out. "This isn't some second-rate horror movie! I'm not coming out of here until you're gone!" Even Mike heard the fear in his voice. He was in a position of no power, and this girl could easily open a bathroom stall door.

"Well, if that's what you want, mister security guard. But please think about coming out. We haven't talked to a guard in years. They're all too scared." The sorrow was all too apparent in the girl's voice. Mike was almost coaxed out. Almost.

The receding footsteps of the girl calmed Mike down, enough for him to stand up and start contemplating his situation. His first thought was how he would get out there. A small locked window was placed along the top of the ceiling, but Mike wasn't that desperate, at least not yet. The only plausible option was to...to...Mike couldn't think it. He checked his watch, reading 2:38. Oh great, three and a half more hours of this crap. What was next, a killer puppet that chased him.

_Where the heck did that thought come from? _Mike pushed it aside, preparing himself for what was to come.

_2 hours later_

Mike stepped out of the girl's bathroom, his eyes wide as saucers. His gaze lingered on the entrance to the dining hall entrance. Each step closer, Mike went slower, until eventually he was at the in the hall. The robots sat in about the same positions, but one with a red v-shaped guitar strapped to his back was lying on the table, looking like he was sleeping.

The one Mike had seen in the bathroom and the office noticed him first, gasping in surprise. She pointed and poked the red fox animatronic next to her. His jaw dropped as he murmured, "Well, blow me down..."

Mike waved awkwardly, mumbling a greeting lost on the way to the robots. A minute passed. And another. Someone needed to say something, and Mike being the wise guy he is, said "So, I'm out. Am I just supposed to head back to the the office?"

The one in a top hat chuckled at that. No, I guess we should introduce ourselves, I'm Freddy Fazbear, or just Freddy." He pointed towards the one in the purple jacket. "Over here we have Bonnie." Bonnie nodded at him and gave a small wave before sitting back down on the table. "Over here," he pointed again, "is Chica." Chica was the only girl there, sporting a yellow skirt and an apron displaying the words "Let's Eat!". "And this guy here...is Foxy." He had slapped Foxt on the back as he said this. Mike could tell they were good friends. But as he scanned over all the animatronics, Foxy stood out. His right hand was a hook and his right eye had an eyepatch covering it.

"How do ye do, me matey?" The pirate fox greeted Mike. He held his non-hook arm out for a handshake and Mike took it as if it were a grenade.

"O-oh, j-j-just fine, yeah..." Mike found it hard to talk to the mascots. Not only were they all over a foot taller than him, Mike didn't thin they were human.

Mike glanced at his watch again. 5:45. "Oh crap!" Mike's sudden shouting made the animatronics jump. Not regular jump, but 5 foot jumps. Chica immediately rushed over, being the caring per-*ahem* robot she was, and nearly shouted, "Is something wrong, Mike?"

Mike scrambled back, nearly falling on his butt for the third time in 2 days. "Nothing! Nothing! It's just fifteen until ten!" Mike had his arms protecting his face, a scared expression on his face. Chica realized she scared him, and retreated back to where she was before.

"Oh my, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!" Chica said rapidly. "No, no." Mike said. "It's all good here." he said.

Freddy decided to break the awful silence. "Ah-well, mister guard, we should head back to our spots, and you should head to yours, right?"

Mike agreed with him. "Y-yeah, Y-y-yeah...ok...see you, um, tomorrow...I guess..." Mike got out shakily. He retreated down the hall and not another word passed between the Mike and the animatronics that night.

**AN: I did it! Another chapter! Wheeeee! Not much to say here, except I will post again soon, and the Disclaimer: Fnaf belongs to Scott Cawthon. And also, I took a lot of inspiration from Just Another Night at Freddy's by DeltaV and A Lot Can Happen in Five Nights by AlphatheGriffin17! Also, sorry for using a dream but I had to put that in somehow. This is GameWritingUnleashed, signing out.**


	4. Chapter 4

Mike was dumbstruck, to put it lightly. The...things...seemed to have an intelligent conversation with him. They said they were going back to their "places" right before he left. He thought back to his trips there as a kid, a hazy memory coming back.

_The car pulled up to the brand new restaurant, pulling into a front row parking space. Mike was nearly hopping with anticipation to get into the place he'd heard about for weeks. Now he was finally here and about to meet the "Freddy Fazbear Band". Along with some other surprise that hadn't been mentioned in the newspaper ad. Mike practically dragged his parents through the doors, jumping to the front desk._

_Eventually, (two minutes) they settled into their seats in the dining hall. Hidden speakers blared out, "Okay kids! Let's have a big welcome to...The Freddy Fazbear Band!"_

_The red curtains retracted, revealing three robots. Robots resembling three of the people Mike remembered from his shift._

No. That was impossible. It simply could not be-people were people, not robots! Mike felt like he was stuck in some weird story written by a creepy fanboy.

The memory snappeed back in full force-this was a moment where he met his childhood hero, after all.

_Freddy ended the song about the joy of creation. He asked, in a completely non-robotic voice, "Alright kiddos! I think it's time to call out another friend of where is he? Here, lets call him out!" Freddy mimicked an inhale, before shouting, "Foxy!" Bonnie came up after this to say, "Aw, c'mon! I know you can do better!" This time, nearly all the kids joined in. A pirate-y chuckle was heard through the restaurant. "Alright, I think he's almost out! One more time!" Now, every kid was in on it. A small stage opened up, one Mike hadn't noticed before. All attention was now on the smal stage to the left._

_"Yar har har har! A red fox animatronic popped out onto the stage, resembling a pirate. He had a black patch over his eye and a hook on his right hand. "Ahoy, me mateys!" He yelled in a voice young Mike would come to adore. "Would any of ye landlubbers like ta join me scurvy crew?" Mike dashed as fast as his little legs would carry him. Foxy happened to notice him first. "And what be yer name, lad?" Mike's eyes sparkled, and Foxy hopped down from his stage to come to rest on a knee. "Mike, Mr. Foxy!" Mike was nearly jumping with excitement. "Aye, that be a fine name! Ye'll make a great first mate!" _

_As soon as he said this, he set a tricorn hat on Mike's head. Mike's mouth put out a smile bigger than ever before, and he spontaneously hugged Foxy. The animatronic froze for a moment, but accepted the hug gingerly._

_Mike had the greatest day of his life that first time he went to Freddy's. But that all changed on that one fateful day..._

Mike snapped back to the present. His head throbbed at the memory, but he was able to shake it off before he remembered that day. He glanced at the clock, reading 11:44. He decided to grab some employee discounted pizza at Freddy's.

The place might as well have been empty, for all the people were there. He stepped into the lobby and got an up-front table. Then, he heard that voice-more robotic and stuttering than the last time he'd gone, but there. O-o-okay kids! L-let's give a-a-a-a bi-i-ig welcome to- the Freddy

Faz-z-zbear Ban..." The voice shorted out before finishing the entire message. A small groan greeted Mike's ears. He recognized it immediately.

"Mr. Fasbar?" Mike called out. Mr. Fasbar answered, "Ah! Mike! How are you?" He asked, now in a much more joyous voice. Mike smiled at the voice. _It even sounds like Freddy's, doesn't it?_

"Fine sir, just grabbing some free pizza and seeing what's happening." Mike then stole a glance at Pirate's Cove. He frowned at the "out of order" sign.

"Sir, what happened to Pirate's Cove? I remember it being in perfect working order when I was a kid." David lost his smile at those words.

"Well...that's a sad story I won't bore you with today, Mike. Maybe later." The look as he said it told Mike it was useless to press.

"Well, I suppose I'll leave you. I've got to fix that blasted speaker again." He walked off backstage. Mike got the urge to follow him, to see what was back there. But right as he was, the curtains opened, and Mike decided to wait. The characters' suits looked terrible. Stained and dirtied, they were even coming apart in some places. The voice boxes appeared undamaged though, as they sang.

If they weren't singing those same songs, they could have been an actual band. They played well, and the pizza was okay. Mike lef after about thirty minutes. He really needed to prepare for tonight.


End file.
